


Trailer Park Vampires

by SlayeroftheVampyrs



Category: Trailer Park Boys
Genre: Blood, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mild Gore, Vampires
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-19 00:40:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29617935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlayeroftheVampyrs/pseuds/SlayeroftheVampyrs
Summary: Ricky gets turned into a vampire. Life at Sunnyvale stays more or less the same, with a few major exceptions.
Relationships: Julian & Ricky, Julian/Ricky (Trailer Park Boys)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 15





	1. Ricky's a Goddamn Vampire

**Author's Note:**

> Hopefully will be part of an ongoing series posted as additional chapters. Also, my first fanfic on this website!

Julian woke up to five voicemails from Ray. Apparently, Ricky was asleep on his couch and couldn’t be budged. Didn’t seem like such a big emergency for Ray to make such a fuss, but the old man seemed pretty drunk already.

Julian poured a cuba libre before heading over. Pausing for a moment, he doubled back to Bubbles’s shack and told him to get the cart ready – if Ricky was passed out, they might need the wagon to haul him back.

His walk to Ray’s was delayed by the importunes of several Sunnyvale residents – No, he hadn’t seen Ricky last night. Yes, it was a bitchin’ party. No, he didn’t have any dope. Whatever Ricky did, Lahey, I’m sure he’s sorry. When he finally arrived at Ray’s, Bubbles had beaten him there and was sharing a bag of bagels with Ray. Coffee in hand, Ray gestured vaguely to his trailer. “He’s in there. Boy’s out like the dead.”

If Ray could calm down that easily with just a bagel and coffee, Julian didn’t see why he’d had to come all the way out. Half the time, if folks just sat with their problems for a minute, they’d solve ‘em on their own, but the Sunnyvale motto seemed to be, “Call Julian.” It got to be a pain in the ass sometimes.

But nevermind that. Julian saw what he expected – Ricky facedown asleep on Ray’s couch. The silence was weird – Ricky usually snored like a lawn mower, especially when he got drunk. Julian shook him by the shoulder.

“Ricky, buddy, wake up.”

Nothing. Julian shook him again, then left his hand on his shoulder for a moment. Ricky was ice cold.

Julian’s stomach dropped. He pushed Ricky onto his side, shaking him again. He held a finger under his nose and didn’t feel any air. Ricky’s chest wasn’t moving. Julian dropped his drink.

In the back of his mind, a voice reminded him he’d always known it might end this way.

“Bubbles! Call an ambulance!”

Two big eyes popped in the door, followed by the rest of Bubbles. “Whatsa matter, Julian?”

“It’s Ricky. Fuck, Bubbles, he’s in real bad shape.” Julian couldn’t find a pulse. He could feel his own heartbeat pounding in his ears.

“Are you sure, Julian? Ricky can usually bounce back, he’s like a silly putty that way—”

“Goddamn it Bubbles, now! Call them now!”

“Quit your shouting! Who are we calling?”

That was Ricky. They both stared.

“Why’re you looking at me like a buncha perverts? Can someone gimme a smoke and explain what in the hell is going on?”

Julian wrapped Ricky in a bear hug, which was awkward given their positions.

“Jesus Christ, Rick, you scared me.”

Bubbles came over to pat Ricky stiffly on the shoulder, offering a confused smile. “We thought we lost ya there for a minute, Ricky.”

Ricky was alive, but still cold. Julian felt Ricky pat him on the back, then pull away from the hug, leaving his hands on Julian’s shoulders. “Alright man, don’t have a crow.” Ricky met Julian’s eyes, and Julian realized he forgot his sunglasses. Shit. He probably looked pretty crazy, because Ricky seemed actually concerned. “Julian. Really, I’m fine. Calm down, man.”

Julian looked and the floor and cleared his throat. He picked up his drinking glass and shuffled over to Ray’s fridge to refill it. “Well good then, because Ray wants you out of here. Let’s get going, we’ve got a lot to do today.” He grabbed the coke, and a pepperoni for Ricky.

“And I’m not so sure you are fine, Rick. I swear you weren’t breathing.”

“So what? I don’t breathe all the time, just whenever I feel like it.”

“People have to breathe, Ricky. It’s part of the rules of being alive,” Bubbled added helpfully.

Handing Ricky the pepperoni, Julian felt his cold hands. He grabbed his wrist and felt it with his palm. “And you’re cold.”

“So I’m hungover. Or I probably got the flu or something from that hot chick I was with last night.”

If it was even possible, Bubbles’s eyes got wider. “What kinda chick?” 

“Nevermind that boys, we gotta get Ricky out of here. Probably go into town for a doctor.”

Ricky backed into the corner like a trapped cat. “No way, I’m not going to go pee in a cup and have some doctor asshole charge me for harming a leg. And Sam Losco still hates my guts. No, I just gotta sleep it off is all.”

Julian felt a familiar headache creeping in. Damn it, why didn’t Ray have any rum? 

“I can look at Ricky in my shed,” said Bubbles. “I’ve got a stethoscope and barometer and things, can take a peek atcha.”

“Fine. Let’s go, Ricky.”

They hadn’t made it two steps off the porch before Rick started cursing.

“Fuck, why is it so goddamn bright? I can’t see for shit.”

“It’s cloudy, Ricky. Quit whining,” Ray shouted. Oh, so now he decided to help? Julian rolled his eyes and pushed lightly at Ricky’s back.

“You’re just hungover, Ricky. Get in the cart.”

“My skin hurts, Julian! It’s burning up, the sun is extra hot today or something.”

It was on the chilly side, but Ricky’s skin did look pretty red. “Bubbles, grab the tarp off Ray’s grill. Ricky, just get in the cart.”

They bundled Ricky into the back of the wagon and covered him up with the tarp. He predictably protested a bit, but seemed to feel better covered up, and fell back asleep. Julian sent Bubbles ahead and started walking back. This time, he told everyone bothering him to fuck off. He needed time to think.

* * *

“You might not wanna hear it, Julian, but it’s the God’s honest truth. Ricky’s a vampire.”

Julian poured himself an extra shot of rum, then a third for good measure. Ricky continued to sleep silently on the couch. This time, Julian watched for the shifting movement behind his eyelids as he dozed.

“That’s crazy, Bubbles. There’s no such things as vampires.”

“Sure there is. I’ve seen ‘em all the time. Vampire bats. Vampire kitties. I even saw a vampire moose once, only it coulda been just a sick one.”

“But have you ever seen a vampire person?”

“No, but I heard of ‘em. Nova Scotia’s got a real vampire problem. If they got Ricky, they’ll be coming for a whole park next!” Bubbles’s breathing got quick and heavy.

“Calm down Bubbles. Let’s handle one thing at a time.” Julian couldn’t afford to have Bubbles freaking out too. He already felt pretty shaken up himself – he needed to get a handle on this situation.

“Ricky, wake up. Here, have some pepperoni.” Ricky rolled on his side and half-opened his eyes, grabbing the cured meat. “You said you might have gotten sick from a girl at the party. Who was she?”

Ricky was hard to understand as he spoke through a loud yawn. “Shit, Julian, I dunno. She weren’t from the park. Probably one of those Cedar Hills girls J-Roc invited. She was super hot. Weird though.”

“Weird? How was she weird?”

Ricky’s attention seemed to be coming around. Julian knew how fleeting his focus could be—he leaned forward, hoping to keep Ricky on track for long enough to get the truth.

“Like, freaky. We were making out behind J-Roc’s mom’s trailer, and she was biting on me. Like biting my neck and stuff.”

Julian felt pissed off at that. He wasn’t quite sure why though. Bubbles began tapping Julian’s knee and making urgent noises. Julian waved him off.

“What happened next?”

Ricky scrubbed his face in his hands, looking distant. “I don’t remember. I think I passed out. Then I woke up with you hollering at me.”

Bubbles moved behind Ricky into Julian’s view, and started pointing urgently at his neck. Julian glanced under Ricky’s shirt collar – it looked pretty red and bruised up. He felt a sting his gut that he couldn’t identify.

“I think we need to find this girl, Ricky.”

“Whatever, if you want to. Fuck, I’m hungry. No, thirsty. Bubbles, you have anything to drink?

Bubbles started screaming.

* * *

It wasn’t too hard to find the girl, Destiny Moon. Most of the party goers had seen her leave with Ricky, and J-Roc knew where she worked – a strip club in Cedar Hills called the Honey Pot. It was a lot easier to canvas the neighbors when Ricky had to stay in the car, under his tarp. Julian wasn’t sure if the smoke coming from underneath it was Ricky’s cigarettes or his skin burning. They killed some time drinking beers and covering Ricky with sunblock to see if that made any difference (it didn’t) and drove into town once the club opened after dark.

“Just let me know when you see her,” Julian shouted over the thumping music. A girl named Roxie Rose was dancing completely off the beat. He felt it detracted from an already mediocre strip show.

“Whatever man,” Ricky was staring vacantly into his drink. His cigarette was almost burned down, and he seemed unaware of Roxie’s halfhearted gyrating. Julian began to regret letting Bubbles spew his conspiracy theories on the ride over – Ricky had clearly been more affected than he’d let on.

“Ricky, you’re not a vampire.”

“Well how else do you explain it? My teeth hurt, I’m super hungry and all my food tastes like shit, and I can’t go out in the sun. Vampire or no, I’m totally fucked!” Another girl who had been sauntering over to their party abruptly backed away at Ricky’s frantic gesticulating. Bubbles’s gaze followed her retreat longingly.

“This girl probably gave you an STD. We’re gonna find out what it is, take you to a doctor— yes, a real doctor!” Julian held up a finger to stop Ricky’s protest before he could start. “And get you fixed up. You’ll be eating chicken wings again in no time.”

“I wouldn’t count on that.”

They both turned in their seats. A blonde dancer in a red tube top stared back at them. Ricky was up like a shot.

“That’s her! That’s the bitch that turned me into a goddamn vampire!”

Like a well-rehearsed dance, they all took their places. Julian holding Ricky back and placating the bouncer, Ricky flipping people off and making incoherent threats, and Bubbles wringing his hands by the stage. For her part, Destiny was fighting just as hard, shouting at Ricky and throwing drinks at him. It was a few songs later by the time Julian had everyone calmed down enough to hold a civil conversation, which involved Ricky having to wait in the car.

When he got done talking with Destiny, all Julian wanted was to get drunk. But he owed it to Ricky to stay lucid for the time being. Julian threw back a shot of tequila (just one, to stay even) and walked slowly through the parking lot, to where Ricky and Bubbles were sitting on the hood of his car.

Ricky stood up expectantly, his expression hopeful but nervous. “What did she say?”

Julian steeled himself, tensing his gut. “I’ve got some bad news, Rick. She turned you into a vampire.”

Ricky doubled over, groaning. Bubbles jumped up and down, pointing and muttering, “I told you, boys! I knew it.”

“Bubbles, you’re not helping! Listen, Ricky, it’s not so bad—”

“Of course it’s bad, Julian! How am I gonna raise my daughter if I can’t even go outside? And what, am I gonna have to start eating people now?”

Julian placed a hand on Ricky’s shoulder. “No, you don’t have to eat people. Destiny said a lotta vampires drink pigs blood and stuff.”

“Gross!”

“And that she’s real sorry for turning you into a vampire, but she was drunk and didn’t mean to.”

“Bullshit! I was way drunker than her!”

“Look, she gave me a list of all the rules and things for vampires. I wrote them down—” Julian pulled out the cocktail napkin on which he’d scribbled notes. “Some of them sound pretty good, man. You can run really fast—”

“I already do that.”

“And you don’t show up in mirrors—”

“How am I going to fix my hair?”

Bubbles began to pat Ricky on the back, but apparently thought better of it, leaving his hand hovering in the air for a moment. “You’ve gotta look at the bright side, Ricky. There’s probably lotsa cool things about being a vampire,” he said.

“Yeah, well I’m not exactly seeing any of them now! Fuck it, let’s just go home. I’m gonna get drunk and stoned and forget about the whole thing for a while.”

Julian opened the car doors slowly, trying to think of something helpful to say.

“You better stay on my couch tonight, Ricky. If you sleep in the car you’ll burn up in the sunrise.”

“Fuckin’ A. Thanks, Julian.”

The long ride back to Sunnyvale was a silent one. Ricky downed half a bottle of rum and passed out on Julian’s couch almost immediately.

That night, Julian got up twice to make sure Ricky’s eyelids were still twitching.

* * *

The next week was the quietest in Sunnyvale history, at least on the surface. Most of that had to do with Ricky staying indoors all day. Julian’s trailer acquired a food-deep layer of trash on the floor, which he had to wade through like snow. Ricky went out some nights, but without his usual fire. He’d shakedown Cory and Trevor or antagonize Lahey, but Julian could tell his heart wasn’t in it. 

Meanwhile, Julian and Bubbles were busy figuring out just what to do with a vampire Ricky. Julian bought out the home good store of all the supplies they needed (black-out curtains, space heaters, pine and corrugated steel) and set Corey and Trevor to work building Ricky his own daylight-proof crypt. He also bought pig’s blood from a butcher Destiny recommended.

Watching Ricky drink blood was… weird. His eyes turned yellow, and his front canine teeth got long and pointy – which got in the way of the drinking glass. Plus, the first time Randy spit blood all over Julian’s couch. But after a couple of tries, he seemed to like it fine. Ricky characterized the taste as “Like a hot and sour soup fucked a boxed wine.” He said it tasted better mixed with whiskey.

Julian had Bubbles run as many vampire tests on Ricky as he could think of. Mostly, he was hoping they would improve Ricky’s outlook about the whole thing. They discovered that Ricky didn’t show up in mirrors, that he was pretty fast and stronger than before, and garlic and crosses made him break out in hives. There was no apparent reaction to holy water, but Julian was pretty sure Bubbles hadn’t blessed it right – he’d heard a few pro-wrestlers names and Rush lyrics in the “ritual chant” Bubbles performed.

More than the supernatural, Julian was worried about Ricky’s spirits. Julian caught him peering out the window slats at their street hockey games – he tried to lie about it, but the angry red sunburn across his eyes gave him away. And the look on Ricky’s face when they finished making his crypt – Julian had seen the same expression when they looked into their first jail cell.

Things came to a head when Lahey came sniffing around. Apparently, he couldn’t let sleeping vampires lie – he was raving that Ricky hadn’t been up to anything for a week, which meant he had to be up to something. Julian was running out of patience - if the drunk bastard couldn’t find any trouble to stop, he seemed determined to create it.

Julian had just about gotten Lahey and Randy calmed down, assuring them that Ricky just had the flu and nothing weird was going on, when Ricky came barreling out of the house. In broad daylight, in a short-sleeved shirt. Fuck.

All the tension Julian had diffused immediately shot back up to a million. Smoke was billowing from Ricky’s skin like a barbeque (and weirdly, it smelled like one too). Worst of all, apparently Ricky vamped-out when he was pissed—his eyes were a bloodshot amber, and his fangs were out.

“I swear to god, Lahey, I’ll give you something to bitch about!”

Lahey bolted for the car radio, shouting as Ricky tried to pull him from the car. “Attention all units, requesting immediate backup at Sunnyvale trailer park, we’ve got a 10-60 violent individual, one Ricky LaFleur. Possibly high on crank or PCP.”

Randy pulled Ricky off Lahey and wrestled him to the ground. Ricky snarled and latched onto his neck.

Randy was up like a shot, clutching his neck. “He bit me, Mr. Lahey! It’s like he’s got rabies or something!”

With an eye still on the park supervisors, Julian tried in vain to shepherd Ricky back into the trailer. “Chill out, Randy, he’s delirious. It’s the flu, it’s messing with his head. Ricky, go inside.”

Lahey drew a pistol from his glovebox and leveled it unsteadily at Ricky’s head. “Flu my ass, that bastard’s high as a kite and a danger to the community.”

“I’ll show you danger, asshole!” Ricky hissed, scrambling forward as Julian held him back. Two cats that had been watching from the lawn scurried away. Julian hoped they were going to get Bubbles.

“Lahey, put the gun down. Ricky wasn’t doing anything wrong until you got here. He’s sick, he’s pissed and confused. Just call off the cops and go home.” With a final shove, Julian got Ricky into the trailer, and held the door closed with his back.

Lahey sneered, and slowly lowered the gun. “You get a handle on that boy, Julian. Next time I won’t be so easygoing.” He lowered himself into the driver’s seat, then stuck his head out the window. “Randy, what does that shed look like to you?”

Randy turned toward Ricky’s crypt, holding a bloody rag to his neck. “It looks like an illegal structure on a lot only zoned for one building, Mr. Lahey.”

“That’s right. Why don’t you get in the car and we’ll help these boys take it down?”

Julian seethed and Lahey rammed through the shed, either oblivious or uncaring about the damage it did to his own car. The pine walls crumbled like matchsticks. The door against Julian’s back shook as Ricky tried in vain to get outside and wreak more havoc. He waited until he saw the Chrysler turn the corner to confront Ricky.

“What the hell were you thinking? You almost got us both killed.” Julian dug through the garbage on his floor, freeing half a handle of dark rum that he drank without a mixer.

Ricky was leaning over the sink, pouring all the cold drinks from the fridge over his burned-up skin. “I can’t live like this, Julian! Hiding all day, letting everyone have fun and get drunk without me.”

“We can’t let Lahey know you’re a vampire. It’s the last excuse he needs to take you down.”

“I’d like to see him try.”

“He didn’t have to. You almost caught yourself on fire, thanks to your own stupidity!”

Julian failed to dodge the milk carton Ricky hurled at his head. Fuck, the vampire had a pitcher’s arm now. “Fuck off, man. How’re we supposed to keep this going? Tell people I’ve got the flu forever?”

Julian remained quiet. He’d hoped Ricky wouldn’t discover that flaw in his plan this early.

Ricky sank to the kitchen floor, his head falling back against the kitchen cabinet. “I can’t live like this, Julian. I’m all alone here. If Lahey wants to slay me or whatever, or I catch myself on fire, maybe that’s just how I’ve gotta go.”

“Don’t talk like that, buddy.” Julian kneeled next to Ricky on the floor, placing a hand on the back of his neck. “Look at me, Ricky. We’ll figure this out. You’re gonna be just fine.”

“Thanks for trying, Julian. I know I’m stupid, but I’m not dumb. Even I can tell things are royally fucked for me.”

Julian sank to the floor next to Ricky. He took another pull of rum, building the courage to vocalize a thought he’s been turning over in his head the whole week.

“What if you weren’t alone?”

Ricky met his eyes. Julian fought the impulse to look away. “What do you mean?”

“What if you turned me into a vampire, too?”

Ricky sucked in a breath and let it out slowly. “I can’t do that to you, Julian. It’s not your fault I’m in this mess.”

“You’re my best friend, Ricky. I hate seeing you like this.” Ricky gave Julian a look – the one that made his lungs feel squeezed. The one that said Ricky trusted him with his life, and made Julian feel like shit because no one should trust a man like him that much.

He cleared his throat and stood up. “Besides, this could be a great opportunity for us. With two vampires, we could get into a whole new line of businesses. I’ve got some ideas.”

Ricky stood as well, still dripping orange juice on the linoleum. “You would really do that for me, Julian?”

Julian tried to think of something distancing to say, to diffuse the situation into something cool and casual and not this sticky, feelings-y mess he’d created. But instead, he just replied, “Of course, Ricky.”

Ricky wrapped him in a sticky hug. He smelled like orange juice and liquor. Julian wondered if Ricky could feel his pulse.

Ricky was practically bouncing. He flopped down on the couch and poured them both drinks. “Cheers, man. To being the two most badass vampires Sunnyvale’s ever seen.”

They clinked glasses and threw them bad. “I don’t know what to do next, though. I was pretty hammered when I got vampired.”

“Destiny told me how it works. I wrote it down.” Julian fished the cocktail napkin out of his pocket. “First you have to drink some of my blood, then I drink yours.”

“Kinda gay.”

Julian lowered his sunglasses. “Don’t make this weird, Ricky.”

“It’s already weird, Julian. It don’t need my help gettin’ weirder”

“Alright, just don’t take too much blood or I’ll pass out.”

“Right on, man. But get the camera crew out of here.”

* * *

“So Ricky and Julian are both vampires now. Kinda fucked if you ask me.”

Bubbles stood at the entrance of his shed, addressing the cameras with a cat in his arms. The lens adjusted to increase exposure as the light faded from the setting sun.

“Julian says it’s gonna help him run some new schemes, plus someone needs to keep an eye on Ricky ‘fore he gets himself blown up or staked through heart. ‘Cept now, Ricky and Julian both gotta hide from the sun all day, and little old Bubbles is in charge of all the work we gotta get done during the daytime.”

The last rays of sunlight winked out over the lake. Over Bubbles’s shoulder, the camera saw Ricky and Julian emerge from the trailer, Julian holding a finger too his lips. Their eyes shone in the dark.

“I gotta keep Corey and Trevor in line and go water the plants. Plus, I still got all my usual jobs like feeding my kitties. It’s tough work.”

Ricky and Julian were advancing silently toward Bubbles. Julian bared his fangs.

“All in all, I’m not so sure about this vampires thing.”

With speed that the camera’s frame rate couldn’t capture, Ricky swept Bubbles’s legs and threw him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. The camera bobbed as it tried to keep up with the vampires running toward the lake, catching snatches of dialogue over the leaves crunching underfoot.

“What’re you doing!?”

“You’ve been working too hard, Bubbles! You need to take a break.”

“Grab his legs, I’ll get his arms!”

“Put me down, boys! I’m serious!”

“On three! One, two…”

Ricky and Julian swung Bubbles like a shotput into the center of the lake. He landed with a splash. Ricky kicked off his shoes and dove in after him.

Bubbles splashed Ricky angrily, and Ricky lurched as if to bite Bubbles, causing him to swim backwards quickly and Julian to double over with laughter.

Julian seemed to remember the camera crew, turning toward the lens and waving them over.

“Listen up” he said, pointing into the camera with a thick red drink in his hand and swaying slightly. “This is a new era for Sunnyvale. From now on, the vampires are in charge.”

Ricky let out a cheer from the lake. Bubbles treaded water, looking nervous.

A full moon became visible on the surface of the lake, and the microphones faintly picked up a distant howling before the cameras stopped rolling. 


	2. No Murder in the Trailer Park!

The camera watched Ricky hammering heavy curtains into the frame around Julian’s trailer windows. He contorted himself awkwardly, avoiding the sunbeams eking through the bottom. He spoke with a cigarette and two nails in his mouth.

“So basically, since I turned Julian into a vampire I found out that it’s pretty fuckin’ sweet. We just stay inside getting baked and sleeping all day, which I was basically doing before anyway. Only now at night, we go out and party and drink blood and stuff.”

Ricky tried to light the nail a few times, before the heat traveled up the metal and burned him.

“Fuck!”

He spit the nail on the ground.

“Must be made of pure silver or something spookynatural like that. Anyway, like I was saying, we drink blood, only not human, because Julian says that’s against the rules. No killing in the park, cause that’s gonna get us exposed.”

Ricky removed the cigarette from his mouth and held it against the wall.

“But apparently we’re gonna live forever, and we can’t ever die and we’re strong and fast. Probably got enhanced mental capacitors to, like super smarts.”

Ricky hammered through the cigarette into his hands. He doubled over, clutching his fingers.

“Fuck! I forgot about my super strength.”

“What are you doing, Ricky?”

The camera panned to Julian leaning out his bedroom door, in his boxers and robe, one hand shielding his eyes from the light.

“Oh hey, Julian, I was just making the trailer more sun-proof.”

Julian wandered into the living room to grab a stray joint, gingerly stepping over the sunbeam cutting through the center of the room. “Ricky, it’s two p.m. That’s the middle of the night for us now. You’ve gotta get your sleep schedule right. Just smoke some dope or have a drink if you can’t fall asleep. Or at least keep it down” He closed his robe around his waist as he passed by the camera and returned to the bedroom.

“Alright, whatever you say, Julian!” Ricky called after him. He leaned in to the camera, speaking in a conspiratorial whisper. “Julian’s got a stick up his ass about some of these vampire rules. He’s a great guy and all, he’s just having a hard time adjusting to this whole thing. Lucky he’s got me to show him the ropes.”

Ricky smiled broadly at the camera and flicked his lighter at the final nail in his mouth.

“Fuck!”

* * *

Bubbles motored down the dirt road, following the flashing police lights. He was starting to freak out – cops always shot his nerves to shit. He didn’t think he and the boys had been up to any police-worthy trouble in the last few days, but still! Freaky stuff!

A small crowd was gathering around lot 205. Bubbles consulted his mind map, zooming up into the sky with his brain and looking at the park from above. He saw the face and name of the lot’s owner – Psycho Jeremy. He felt his face get hot— Jeremy had killed one of his kitties two years ago, and Lahey hadn’t done shit.

He jumped up from his cart and started toward the crowd, doubling back to cover the tubs of blood in his wagon with a tarp. He hoped they wouldn’t spoil in the time he spent looking at the crime scene. Did blood spoil? He’d have to ask Julian about that.

He stood on his tiptoes and could make out two police officers kneeling, and something on the ground, but not much else. He approached Lucy, who was peering over the crowd herself and covering Trinity’s eyes with her hands.

“Howdy there, Lucy. What’s going on here?”

“Oh hey, Bubbles. Here, get her ears.”

“’’scuse me, Miss Trinity.” Bubbles gently placed his hands over Trinity’s ears. Lucy gave Trinity a piece of gum from her pocket.

“Here, sweetie. Mr. Santos found Psycho Jeremy this morning dead and covered in flies. Apparently, he was all bitten up, like an animal did it or something. They’re saying all his blood was gone. How gross is that?”

Bubbles could barely get his breathing under control. “Have you seen Ricky around?”

Lucy rolled her eyes. “Not since Tuesday. He called to say he couldn’t take Trin last night like he was ‘sposed to. Jackass. Does he really have the flu?”

“Oh, uh, yep, he’s sick as a cat on a hot tin roof!” Bubbles stammered out his excuses, backing away. “Welp, I’d better be off. See ya later, girls!” He bolted for his cart, kicking up a cloud of dust as he speeded toward Julian’s trailer.

“Bye Bubbles!” Trinity called after him. Turning to Lucy, she asked “Did he stink when Mr. Santos found him?”

Lucy sighed and petted Trinity’s hair. “Shh… you didn’t hear that, honey.”

* * *

Bubbles came barreling into Julian’s trailer, causing Julian to dive for cover from the evening light that came through.

“Careful, Bubbles! What happened to the secret knock?”

“I’m sorry, Julian, but it can’t wait! Where’s Ricky?”

“In the bedroom. He fucked up his sleep schedule again and was passed out when the game came on, so I put him in my bed while I watched.”

Bubbles peered at Julian over his glasses, which was no easy feat given their size. “You watched him sleep?”

Julian crossed his arms defensively. “I watched the game! Focus, buddy, what’s this emergency?”

Bubbles leaned in and lowered his voice. “I think Ricky might be drinking people’s blood in the park!” He told Julian what he’d seen at Psycho Jeremy’s.

Julian’s eyes went wide during the telling, but when Bubbles had finished he shook his head. “No, Ricky wouldn’t do that. He knows the rules.”

Bubbles felt torn. He wanted to trust Julian, and Ricky for that matter, but this vampire business was uncharted waters. “I don’t know, Julian. Could be the bloodlust getting to his brain, makin’ him go crazy. Were you with him last night?”

Julian pressed a fist to his temple. “Just until nine or so. Then I went into town and he went to see Trinity.”

Bubbles shrieked. His heart felt like Mr. Jumpers when he’d had to go in the scary kitty carrier. Julian put a hand on Bubble’s shoulder, shushing him. Bubbles stammered in an even lower whisper – “Lucy hasn’t seen him. She told me.”

Julian sank back in his seat and looked at the ceiling, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Alright Bubbles, don’t freak out. I’ll handle this.”

“Handle what?” Ricky emerged wearing Julian’s robe, which didn’t quite make it around his midsection, and wiping sleep from his eyes.

Bubbles felt the temperature in the room rise by about a thousand degrees. He was spring-loaded to bolt, but Julian gave him a “Keep it cool” look from the corner of his eye. Cool as a cat, Julian casually replied, “Psycho Jeremy. You hear what happened?”

“No. Did that needledick finally piss off the wrong person?”

Julian and Bubbles exchanged a glance. “Looks like it. Bubbles saw him dead, with a bunch of police around. Apparently, he was torn apart.”

Ricky scratched at his nose and popped open a beer on the countertop. “Fuck. I didn’t mean to speak sickly of the dead or nothing. Then again, it is Psycho Jeremy, so maybe no harm no cow, right? Do they know what did it? Like a bear or something?”

Bubbles’s tummy felt like a heavy potato sack. Julian was staring daggers at Ricky. “Could be. Where were you again, last night?”

The tips of Ricky’s fangs emerged from his mouth. “With Trinity, I told you. Why’re you giving me a bird’s degree?”

Julian held up his hands. “Simmer down, Rick. Just wanted to know if you saw anything.”

“Well I didn’t, alright? I’m thirsty as shit. Bubbles, where’s our blood?”

Bubbles had been concentrating on trying to turn invisible. Apparently, it hadn’t worked. “It’s in the cart, Ricky. I-I’ll go get it.” He shuffled toward the door, keeping Julian between Ricky and himself.

Julian tapped his glass with his fingernail a few times. “You know, Rick, we should probably try to hunt down this bear tonight. It’s not safe for the park, and it’s bringing too much attention that could fall down on us.”

“Sure, fine, whatever. Sounds like fun.” Ricky replied sarcastically, picked at his beer label with what Bubbles thought was a pretty damn guilty expression. Suddenly, Ricky started right back at him, his eyes glowing yellow. “Bubbles! Blood, let’s go!”

Bubbles felt a surge of purpose, scurrying outside to grab the now warm blood. He reached one arm into the door, hearing Julian snap “Don’t talk to him like Cory and Trevor, Rick!” and dropped the pints on the floor. He shouted a garbled goodbye over his shoulder and motored off.

Ricky was hiding something, that’s for sure. And from the look in his eyes, it might be more than Psycho Jeremy they had to worry about. 

* * *

Julian picked his way through the brush on the outside of the trailer park. He’d told Ricky they had to walk on the outskirts to avoid attention, but mostly he was hoping to keep Ricky away from people for the time being. You couldn’t just go killing in the park, even assholes like Psycho Jeremy. But reasoning with Ricky was like diffusing a bomb—one wrong move, and Sunnyvale could have a homicidal, pissed off, and likely hammered vampire loose in the park. So Julian’s approach had to be subtle.

“You ever drink human blood, Ricky?”

Great work, Julian. You nailed it.

Ricky stopped walking and scowled. Even at three in the morning and away from the light of the park, Julian could make out his expression clearly. Vampire sight eliminated the need for flashlights—he filed that information away for a few of the plans he was working on.

“No, of course not. You told me not to. Plus, when would I have the chance? You’ve been on my ass ever since I got vampired.”

Direct approach was no good. Approach the thing sideways, Julian, don’t let him see where you’re going.

“When I talked to that Destiny girl, she said a lotta vampires like the taste better.”

“Good for them.” Ricky had found a large stick and was pushing aside the undergrowth. “Do you smell that?”

Julian could smell a lot of things, most of them unpleasant. If he’d had his pick he’d have passed on the vampire sense of smell. But one scent stood out. “Blood. We’re near Jeremy’s trailer.”

They emerged from the brush to Jeremy’s yard. Most of the area had been cleared away, but the gravel still had bloodstains on it.

Ricky bent over to sniff the gravel, his fangs out. He touched a piece of it to his tongue and spat it out. “I guess I see what you mean. It does taste different.”

Julian knelt next to Ricky, giving him what he hoped was an understanding look. “Why do you think the killer did it, Ricky?”

Ricky didn’t meet his eyes, still inspecting the gravel. “I dunno, probably because he was hungry or something.”

Fuck. The dread that had been building in Julian’s gut bubbled up into his throat. What if he couldn’t reign Ricky in this time? Then what?

Julian stood and leaned his head against a tree, which also smelled like blood. Ricky hadn’t been very neat killing Jeremy. “Fuck, Ricky, I told you not to go killing in the park! Do you know how fucked we are?”

Ricky shot up and crowded Julian by the tree, not bothering to keep his damn voice down. “The fuck are you talking about? You think I did this?”

“You said you were hungry!”

“ _He_ was hungry! The bear or cougar or whatever that did it!”

“And you lied about where you went last night. Lucy told Bubbles you weren’t with Trinity.”

Ricky laughed dryly, shaking his head and backing into the yard. “Oh, so you’ve got Bubbles thinking I’m a killer too? That’s fucked, Julian!”

Why couldn’t Ricky make this easy? Things were barreling toward fucked-town, fast. Julian pushed Ricky against the back of the trailer, pressing him by the shoulder. The fangs were out on both sides now. “Where were you then, Rick?”

“I’ve got a reason for that, Jules, I was—” Ricky cut off at the sound of a howl nearby. The noise sent sharp needles down Julian’s spine.

Ricky squirmed out from Julian’s loosened grip. “You hear that? That’s probly your fucker right there, a goddamn wolf or carote! C’mere, you little fuckhead!” Ricky was darting through the bushes toward the mountain before Julian could get his bearings.

“Ricky! Get back here! Shit…” Julian downed the rest of his blood-and-rum, then tossed the glass into the bushes as he chased after Ricky. He didn’t have much of a lead, but he’d always been faster on foot than Julian (not that he’d ever admit that out loud). Julian kept following the howling noise and Ricky’s scent (Weird? Yes. But not unpleasant. Not unpacking that right now, Julian…) for a few miles out of town.

After half an hour or so, he realized he would have passed by where the wolf first howled from—it was getting farther from town. And Ricky’s scent was getting fainter. He was just starting to freak out when he saw a black-and-white checked blur barreling towards him through the woods.

“Ricky, thank fuck! I thought—”

Ricky didn’t slow down. As he approached, Julian saw the panic in his eyes. Ricky swerved just enough to grab him by the upper arm and almost pull him over.

“Run, Jules! Fucking run!”

* * *

Bubbles lay on his bed, petting Jennydots (his most cuddly kitty, and his favorite for when he really needed calming down). He couldn’t sleep a peep, knowing Julian was out there confronting Ricky for killing in the park. What if Julian couldn’t help Ricky simmer down?

A new fear joined the rumbling in his brain. What if Ricky convinced Julian to start being evil vampires together?

“Oh, what would we do then, Jennydots? What if the evil vampire spirits are taking over?” Jennydots blinked slowly at Bubbles and rested her chin on his knee. “Nice kitty. We need something nice and good like you to shoo away all of these fucky vibrations in the park. I think you’re a bit small to do it on your own, though.”

Suddenly Jennydots jumped off Bubbles’s lap and scampered out of the shed. Bubbles followed after her—she wasn’t much of a get-around cat, so this scurrying was pretty strange. He saw Jennydots joined by Snapjacks and Pine Needle Paul, all three cats heading determinedly northwest out of the park, toward the mountain.

Jennydots paused, turned to look Bubbles in the eyes, and mewed inquisitively.

Cats had the uncanny ability to tell you what they needed right into your soul, Bubbles had always thought. “Alright, I’m coming, let me just get my shoes on…”

He put on his boots, and since it was getting dark out, grabbed a flashlight from Julian’s trailer. He jogged to catch up with the cat pack – Snapjacks and Pine Needle Paul were forging ahead, but Jennydots had hung back until Bubbles could catch up. She rubbed against his pant leg and scurried after her friends into the woods. Bubbles hurried behind.

Bubbles followed the cats for what felt like two or three hours, long after the sun went down. He was a little worried, but not as much as perhaps he ought to be. He didn’t believe his cats would lead him into danger. And Jennydots definitely had something in mind…

She turned back to face Bubbles. He saw the reflection of her eyes against the dark in his flashlight beam. Jennydots meowed once, then lept down, out of sight somewhere.

“Jennydots! Snapjacks! Pine Needle Paul!”

Now Bubbles was starting to get worried. He ran to where Jennydots had been, not watching his feet below, and tumbled over a tree branch, falling down a sudden incline.

Everything hurt all over, he was covered in dirt and burdocks, and worst of all his glasses had fallen off! Now Bubbles was well and truly freaking out. He crawled toward the light of the flashlight he had dropped, moving carefully so as not to crush his glasses underfoot. He grabbed at the flashlight like a life preserver, clutching it to his chest and trying to take a deep breath. Focus, Bubbles, what would Julian tell you to do? Stay calm, focus on just the problem at hand.

Moving slowly, Bubbles passed the light over his surroundings. He saw some moving shapes that he really hoped were his kitties, and a bunch of rocks in a clump. Something reflected the light near the ridge he had fallen down—Bubbles inched toward it, wincing at a pain in his arm from the fall. He found a smooth, cold… something. Not his glasses, that’s for sure. It was shiny and felt like stone or maybe metal. He put it in his pocket to deal with later.

He saw another reflection, hanging off of a tree branch near one of the big rocks. He reached out and touched—yes! His glasses! Thank goodness. Bubbles put them on, then finally took a proper gander at his surroundings and yelped like a kitty in an ice bath. It’s a good thing his glasses were holding in his eyeballs, else they would have popped right out of his head!

The big rocks weren’t rocks at all – they were headstones. And the tree branch holding his glasses was a darn skelington hand! This was some spooky shit, that’s for damn sure! Why did his kitties lead him all the way out here?

He heard a howling nearby and almost froze with fear. The only thing that broke through his shock was a familiar voice.

“Get back here, you mangy bastard!”

Bubbles could barely eek out a whisper at first. “Ricky?”

Ricky let off a volley of gunshots, which were met with a series of growls. The shots shook Bubbles out of his reverie— he stumbled up and ran toward where he heard the sounds.

This time, he saw the cliff coming, and thank god for it, too! He was facing a drop that was easily fifty feet down. Bubbles had to take in the scene below in bits, just able to see where he focused the flashlight.

First he saw Ricky, vampired-up and looking somehow both pissed off and terrified. Then, he saw what Ricky was afraid of – a big motherfucker of a wolf, snarling and snapping, and… was it wearing a leather jacket?

The wolf leaped at Ricky. He shot a few times at it but either missed, or the wolf didn’t give a shit about being shot. It bit Ricky on the arm, whipping its head back and forth to tear at the wound. Bubbles shrieked— he started to back away, but the mud under his feet slipped. He tumbled down the cliff. Just when Bubbles was sure it was over for him, his frantic scrambling caught an exposed tree root on the way down. Breaking his fall pulled his shoulder socket something fierce, and the flashlight tumbled out of his grip.

The last thing Bubbles saw in the tumbling flashlight beam were two big red eyes and a set of sharp teeth coming toward him

* * *

Ray had given Ricky some solid advice growing up. Like how most of the time, a man ought to stand and fight. But sometimes (and the trick was figuring out _which_ sometimes!) actually the bravest thing to do was to get out of that shit quick. Like Dad says, know when to hold ‘em, when to fold ‘em, when to walk away, and when to…

“Run, Jules! Fucking run!”

Ricky barreled practically through Julian, pulling on his arm and bolting like a bat outta hell toward Sunnyvale. He didn’t know exactly how he’d gotten away from the wolf, but he suspected he didn’t have much time before it caught up…

Except Julian couldn’t trust Ricky just fucking once! Instead of doing the sane thing and running away, Julian wouldn’t budge, pulling him back and telling him to calm down. Like this was a time for calm!

“What is it Rick? Shit, what happened to your arm?”

“That thing happened! The fucking scarewolf got me!”

“Werewolf?”

Ricky was getting sick of this. He gave Julian a shove toward town, moving him a few steps before he pushed back.

“Jules, we’ve gotta get out of here, get some guns or something. Real guns. This fucker’s tough, and pissed off.”

The werewolf howled, and Ricky felt nauseous. It was a deep down kind of sick, not like getting too drunk, but like when he found out Mom died. The kind of sick you can’t puke out.

Apparently, Julian was similarly affected. His eyes went wide, and he finally started to move toward home. Until, that is, they heard a distant voice.

“Help! Nice doggy, get away now… boys, help me out here!”

Ricky’s brain must have missed a few steps, or it was playing tricks again. Was that—

“Bubbles? Was he back there with you?” Julian asked accusingly.

Ricky shook his head, trying to rattle his thoughts together. “No, I don’t think so. There was a bright light, but why would it be…”

“Ricky! You’ve gotta help me!” called Bubbles again.

Julian met Ricky’s eyes briefly, staring him down. It felt like being questioned by a cop, and not the dumb mall security kind. He met Julian’s gaze, as earnest as he could manage. “I didn’t know, I swear.”

Julian nodded, once. “Alright, let’s go get this thing.”

“Wait!”

Every muscle in Julian’s body (and there were quite a few) looked tensed for action. His fangs were bared. But he stopped.

“I- I can’t do it, man. That were-fucker, it’s, it’s really… maybe we can run back, get more guns?”

Ricky felt like a shithead. He wasn’t proud, but he didn’t think he could go back there. That howl…

“Hey, Ricky, listen to me.”

Julian placed both hands on Ricky’s shoulders, careful of the injury. He de-vamped, and Ricky saw his best friend again.

“We can do this. We’ll take him together. We have to save Bubbles. And we’re badass now, man. This bastard doesn’t stand a chance”

The nausea faded most of the way. It still sat in the corner of Ricky’s stomach, but he could handle it now, tell it to fuck off for a bit while he and Julian took care of what needed taking caring of.

Ricky put on his war face. He braced a hand on the back of Julian’s neck.

“Alright. Let’s show this asshole who runs Sunnyvale.”

The feeling of nausea got bigger and bigger as they got closer to Bubbles, but Ricky choked it down. Ricky saw him hanging by one arm midway down a cliff, and the wolf circling underneath him and snapping at his heels.

Julian pulled Ricky and himself into a crouch behind a rock, assessing the situation. He scowled.

“Is the wolf wearing a jacket?”

Ricky rolled his eyes. “I’m not a wilderness expert. How to we kill this thing?”

Ricky could see the tense calm of all the cylinders firing up in Julian’s brain. Ricky tried to stay focused. It would be OK, Julian would know what to do, he’d find a clever way to solve the problem and keep everyone safe.

“Well, it really wants to kill you, Ricky. How about you distract it and get it to attack you instead of Bubbles?”

“That’s your plan? To get me killed? You can’t still think I’m the asshole here, Jules!”

“No, no, chill out. You’ll distract it until I can get Bubbles out of the way, and then I’ll attack him from behind. Then we take him down together.”

Ricky was skeptical. What if Julian still thought he killed Psycho Jeremy, and this was a trick? He poked a finger into Julian’s chest, staring him down. “You won’t let him kill me?”

Julian held out a hand. “I promise.”

Trusting Julian had always gotten Ricky either into or out of trouble, pretty much equally over time. Might as well pull the lever and see what comes up on the slots this time around. He took Julian’s hand in both of his and nodded. 

Ricky leapt out from behind the rock, waving his arms and shouting. “Hey! Over here, ya mangy bastard.”

Julain started sneaking around the side. The werewolf’s big head whipped around and snarled. Ricky grabbed a branch from the ground, trying to imagine the wolf’s head as a giant hockey puck. He charged.

His new speed still took getting used to. He overshot his run, avoiding the wolf’s teeth but also swinging late and missing his shot. The wolf rebounded quicker, leaping onto Ricky’s chest and knocking him to the ground.

Ricky held the snapping jaws away from his face, trying to create enough distance to reach for his gun. In the side of his vision, he saw Julian pulling Bubbles up onto a ledge in the cliffside.

The wolf snarled, it’s breath smelling like the worst decay since the refrigerator lost power in ’98 and he’d had to toss all that spoiled meat. Ricky snarled back and bit the wolf. If it was possible, the wolf looked confused.

“Yeah, not so nice, it is? Fuck off!”

Ricky shoved the wolf off his chest, then kicked it in the side into a tree. Stumbling a bit himself, he ran toward the cliffside and drew his gun. Above him, he saw Julian crouched on the ledge with Bubbles. Julian made a complex little motion with his hands that was probably meant to be a signal.

“I don’t know what all that sign language means, but hows about I get him over here and you jump down and fuck him up?”

Julian put his face in his palm and gave a thumbs up with the other hand.

The wolf was approaching, stalking over all sinister like he thought he was so cool. Ricky fired a few rounds toward him – one caught him in the shoulder, piercing the leather jacket.

Now the wolf seemed really pissed. It barreled toward Ricky, who stared it down until the last second, then leapt out of the way.

Like Rowdy Roddy Piper coming off the turnstile, Julian came barreling down and pinned the werewolf in a half nelson, pressing its torso down with his weight and smacking the head with a large rock. Ricky took the chance to reload.

The wolf threw Julian and swiped at his midsection, leaving a bloody tear in his shirt. Ricky took a few potshots but could tell they were way off – the thing was practically moving faster than his bullets. Then the wolf stood on its hind legs, easily clearing eight feet tall, and pinned Julian against the cliff face.

Above them, Bubbles was peering down and shouting, “Shoot him, Ricky!”

Ricky stared down the sights, moving around to find an angle. “I’m trying, Bubs, but I can’t get a shot without hitting Julian. Fuck it!” Ricky tossed aside his gun and charged, going for a shoulder spear right through the wolf. But the fucker saw him coming and dodged– Ricky barreled right through, trying to slow down, but the wolf struck from behind, pinning him to the ground and biting at the back of his neck.

Getting shot hadn’t hurt this much. Ricky flailed at the dirt ground, trying and failing to find leverage to get up. He thought he saw Julian going after the werewolf, but it was hard to tell. The pain wouldn’t let up.

Distantly, he heard Bubbles shouting. He sounded less scared now, more pissed. Almost scary in fact.

“Listen here, you rat bastard! You stay away from Sunnyvale and stay away from my friends!”

Ricky’s vision was obscured by a flash of blue light. A loud noise shook though his bones that was something in between actual thunder and the drums in _Thunderstruck_. The pain in his neck and weight on his back let up. Still confused, Ricky scrambled up and out of the way, shielding his eyes from the light.

The light started to wane, and he saw Julian on the ground. He pulled him up and backed them against the cliff face. Finally, the light faded out completely. He saw the wolf charging toward them and flinched – but when it got within fifty feet or so it stopped short, like it hit an invisible wall. It snarled and scratched at the air but couldn’t get any closer to them.

Ricky looked upwards at Bubbles. “What did you do, Bubs?”

Bubbles had his hand outstretched and was holding something blue and glowing. He looked startled. “I dunno, Ricky. I was pissed off, and I remembered this here special rock I found before. And I told the wolf to fuck off, and I guess it did.”

Now, the wolf looked kinda sick. It was doubled over and groaning. Its limbs started to shake.

Bubbles pointed at the horizon. “Look, boys, the sun’s coming up! You’d better get up here, there’s a cave you can hide in! Hurry!”

Ricky gave Julian a leg up, keeping one eye on the convulsing wolf. Just as the first rays of sunlight were starting to irritate his skin, Julian reached down and pulled him onto the ledge. They backed into the shade of the small cave with Bubbles, watching the werewolf’s transformation.

It was pretty gross and looked like it hurt a lot. Good—serves the bastard right. It finally resolved itself into a pale human shape, naked as a jaybird except for a leather jacket and an extremely punchable face.

It was Julian who first voiced what they all saw.

“Cyrus?!”

Cyrus groaned and flipped them off with both hands. Then apparently gaining a sense of modestly, he removed his leather jacket and tied it around his waist. He shouted back, “You ruined my jacket! I’ll kill you for this! Next time you won’t be able to hide behind your shit-wizard and his shitty spells!”

Julain mouthed, “spells?” to Bubbles. Bubbles shrugged. Ricky ran out of the mouth of the cave, leveling his gun. “I should have known it was you, you greasy fuck! I ought to drop you right now!”

Ricky’s arm and face were smoking in the sunlight. Julian yanked at Ricky’s waistband with one arm, pulling him back. Cyrus laughed.

“Your arm’s shaking too much to hold that cannon, Fat Elvis! How’s that shoulder wound treating you?”

Ricky’s hand caught on fire in the sunlight. He dropped the gun and clutched his hand to his chest. Julian finally pulled him back into the cave and pressed him to the ground with Bubbles, putting out the fire with dirt and mud.

Cyrus was still shouting at them. “You’ve never fucked up this bad, boys. You just declared war on the Burnside wolf pack!”

Bubbles was getting teary but gritted his teeth. He went to the mouth of the cave and shouted down. “Why don’t you fuck off, Cyrus? Or were you thinking you could take us all on with your bird hanging out?”

Cyrus bristled. He started backing away. “Oh, I’m going. And when me and my pack come back, we’re coming back heavy. Spread the word, boys, Sunnyvale is going to the dogs. Awoo!”

He howled, but it was a regular human howl and sounded pretty pathetic, Ricky thought. Then Cyrus turned tail and scurried down the mountain, his pale ass reflecting the morning sun as he ran.

Ricky flipped him off as he left, which hurt his injured hand quite a bit. Worth it.

Bubbles hastily covered most of the front of the cave with rocks and branches, helped somewhat by Julian – as much as he could without getting burned. When he’d finished, the sunlight didn’t get into most of the cave.

Bubbles hurried back to Sunnyvale. He offered to wait out the sunset with the boys, but Julian insisted he get home and get some rest. Thank God Ricky was carrying a gram of hash, else the wait would have been unbearable. He rolled and lit a joint, taking a hearty pull before passing it to Julian. Just twelve hours until sunset.

They smoked in silence for a few minutes. Ricky wished Julian would say something, but also knew that Julian could spend the entire day in silence no problem. And that just wasn’t gonna fly.

Ricky coughed after taking another drag, just as a way to break the silence. He flicked the ash from the joint and finally spoke. “So, Cyrus, huh?”

Julian laughed quietly. “That was pretty wild, man. I guess we’re not the only creatures of the night in Dartmouth.”

“Do you think he really has a whole gang of wolves?” The prospect was pretty unsettling. Ricky thought about Trinity and Lucy, and a pack of wolves stalking around their trailer. He took a heavy drag, swallowing a bit of ash and actually coughing.

Julian frowned. “Maybe. If he can make other werewolves, I wouldn’t put it past him.”

The silence descended again. A ray of light was inching closer, and Julian moved further back into the cave, toward Ricky.

They sat shoulder to shoulder. It was weird being this close and not feeling any body heat. But not bad-weird. Ricky recalled a night they’d fallen asleep like this in high school, on the couch after getting drunk and watching Smokey and the Bandit. Ricky smiled at the memory.

He was about to ask Julian if he remembered that night but saw the dour look on his face and remembered that he was still pissed at Julian. He felt sick again. He stubbed out the joint butt on the ground.

Finally, barely over a whisper, Julian said, “I’m sorry.”

Ricky laughed dryly. “Yeah, you should be. You and Bubbles both. How could you think I’d do that?” Ricky heard his voice break on the last phrase and looked away. Compose yourself, Ricky. Don’t let the hash make you have feelings and shit.

“I don’t know, Rick. I thought maybe being a vampire was too intense for you. And where were you that night? Why did you lie?”

Oh, right. Ricky had almost forgotten about his project. It felt like weeks ago now. “I did’t want to tell you until it was finished. I was digging up some space under your trailer”

“You? Digging?” Julian had a shit eating grin.

“Alright, Cory and Trevor were digging, but I was supervising. I had an idea, that we could wire a fridge and hotplate down there. You know how you said there’s other vampires out there who drink blood from the butcher? Well, I was thinking I could infuse some blood with hash and sell it back to them. You know, drink blood and get stoned at the same time. And we’d do it under the trailer during the day, cause it’d be out of the sun. I dunno. It’s probably stupid”

Ricky had been waiting for Julian to interrupt him, but when he stayed silent, Ricky had to lamely finish his ramble. He cautiously searched Julian’s impassible face for a reaction. Finally, Julian met his gaze.

“Ricky, that’s genius. Way to go, man. It’s perfect.”

Ricky felt like he could float right out of the cave. Instead, he contained his glee to a small smile.

“Shit, thanks man.” He picked at a hangnail. “And I was thinking, since we’ve got it wired for power and I can’t stay in the car anymore, maybe I’ll move down there. I mean, you’ve been real nice and all letting me sleep on your couch, but I know you don’t want me to be there long term, and that’s cool man, I get it.” The prospect of sleeping underground made Ricky’s spirits sink back to earth. But he knew Julian liked his space, and that he wasn’t exactly a tidy houseguest.

Julian fiddled with a leaf absently. He quietly replied, “You can stay with me, if you want.”

Ricky tensed, waiting for the letdown. “It’s alright, Julian, you don’t have to say that. I know I’m a lot to deal with.”

Julian nodded. “You are. But I don’t mind so much.” Julian’s voice dropped so quiet Ricky might not have heard him without vampire ears. “Besides, this whole vampire thing is pretty weird and lonely sometimes. I could use your company.” 

Ricky hugged Julian from the side, awkwardly in the small space. He felt Julian tense up, then relax after a moment.

“Thanks, man.”

“Don’t mention it, buddy.”

They leaned back against the wall, still shoulder to shoulder. This time, the silence wasn’t so heavy. They fell asleep like that, like it was 1985 again.


	3. Blood Drive for Kids in Hour Communitie

The camera watched Cory and Trevor in a cramped, dark space. In the foreground was a row of marijuana plants, and behind the boys stood an old refrigerator and a hotplate on a folding table. Cory was driving long garden stakes into the dirt wall, and Trevor was following behind him, hanging green string lights on the stakes.

Trevor turned to the camera, his torso tangled in string lights that cast a glow across him. He spoke proudly. “Ricky just told us that he and Julian are vampires, which is like, so cool.”

“Yeah,” added Cory. “We love The Lost Boys and Buffy the Vampire Slayer and stuff.”

Trevor smacked Cory on the shoulder. “Don’t say we like Buffy, dude. That’s a girl’s show.”

Cory frowned. “No it’s not, it’s totally badass.”

Trevor turned back to the camera. “Anyway, they can’t like, go outside during daytime anymore? So Ricky says we’re getting promoted and we’re gonna be their familiars. So we like do their bidding and stuff like before, only now if we serve them really good for enough time, they’ll turn us into vampires too.”

Now Cory was getting excited too. He put down the project he was working on and faced the camera. “It’s gonna be so cool, we’ll be all like – raaah! I’m gonna suck your blood!” He pantomimed baring his fangs and attacking Trevor.

Trevor joined the game giddily. “Yeah! And we’ll be super old forever, I mean, super young, but when we’re old? And so it’ll be like the year 2030 and we’ll still be alive and have flying cars and lightsabers.”

“Yeah! It’ll be so sweet, we’re gonna—”

“Boys! What the fuck are you doing?” The camera panned directly above, to where Ricky was peering down through the trap door into the dirt bunker. “This place needs to be ready by tonight!”

Cory and Trevor hung their heads. “Sorry Ricky.”

“Yeah, sorry.”

Ricky pointed an accusing finger at each of them. “You keep goofing around like this, and we’re not gonna turn you into vampires. I need to see you boys can take this shit serious.”

“Okay Ricky, we won’t do it again.” Cory and Trevor returned to the task at hand – by now, the bunker was almost fully illuminated in the green glow of the lights.

The broadcast cut to an interview with Ricky, sitting on Julian’s couch and smoking a cigarette, brushing dirt off the knees of his track pants.

“Of course we’re not really gonna turn Trevor and Cory into vampires. Can you imagine the shit they’d get into? But Julian’s idea was that we needed to give them an extra incentive, ‘cause some of the work we got ‘em doing is delicate shit, and we can’t have them fucking it up as per diem.” 

Ricky stubbed out the cigarette and began counting on his fingers. “So Cory and Trevor know that we’re vampires. Bubbles, obviously. I told Lucy, but not Trinity, ‘cause I don’t wanna freak her out. So that’s what, four people? Not so bad. We’re keeping things real confidentiary.”

* * *

Ricky removed the infusion bag of marijuana from the cooking pot, squeezing the excess blood out with tongs. He took a whiff – it smelled awesome. They’d make tons of cash from this, and it had been Ricky’s idea! He couldn’t wait to try the first batch with Julian.

He set the bag aside and whistled for Trevor, who skulked across the bunker toward him warily.   
“Trev, bottle this one up and put it in the fridge – labeled, this time!”

Trevor just stared into the cook pot full of blood, his face turning pale. Cory watched from his seat at a small folding table, his gaze bouncing back and forth between Trevor and Ricky. Ricky snapped his fingers in Trevor’s eyes.

“Hey, fuckwit, let’s go. Do you wanna be a vampire someday or not?”

Trevor doubled over and vomited on Ricky’s shoes.

“Ah, goddamn it! Cory, get him outside and clean this up.” Ricky turned to Cory, who was beginning to gag. He pointed his tongs at him accusingly. “No, don’t you start to! Jesus, how’re we supposed to get anything done if you jagoffs can’t handle a bit of dope blood?”

Trevor held his hands over his mouth and looked at Ricky like a kicked puppy dog. “We’re sorry, Ricky”

The scents of dirt, puke, and incompetence in the narrow bunker were making Ricky’s head swim. He pushed past the boys and toward the ladder, calling behind him, “Just get your shit together, get this cleaned up, and bottle the blood. It’s not that fucking hard, boys.”

Ricky heard Trevor and Cory bickering behind him as he climbed the ladder and swung open the trapdoor under Julian’s trailer that lead into the hallway. He climbed up and kicked his shoes off into the bathroom and began washing some of the dirt off in the sink. He heard Julian on the phone in the living room. 

“That’s great. We can meet you behind the Honey Pot on Friday night. Yeah, we can get it by then.”

Julian paused. Ricky continued washing his hands absently, listening in.

“Well, I was planning to bring him. But I can come alone. Why do you…? Oh. Alright then. It’s a date. Thanks again.”

Julian hung up. Ricky wandered into the living room, barefoot, real casual, and started digging through the fridge.

“Who’re you talking to?” he asked over his shoulder, like it weren’t a big deal.

Julian looked up from where he was assembling the weed infusion bags on his coffee table. “Hm? Oh, uh, Destiny.”

Ricky’s hand tightened into a fist, and he inadvertently crushed the beer can he had been holding. Damn vampire strength! “Why’re you talking to the bitch that vamped me?” he spat at Julian.

Julian grumbled. “She’s not a— Look, how else do you propose we find the other vampires to sell this stuff to?” he said, gesturing to the weed bags. “Anyway, small change of plans, buddy. I’ve got something that’ll make us money, fast.”

Ricky felt a little unsteady. He mixed the remaining beer with a cup of blood, which turned out to be disgusting— but he’s been raised to believe wasting drink was a sin. He choked down a mouthful. “Are you saying you’re giving up on my dope blood?”

Julian seemed distracted, only halfway here. The engines in his brain were firing, Ricky could tell. “No, man, we’ll still do that. But first, we’re gonna hold a blood drive.”

Blood drive! That could actually be fun. Ricky recalled a time when Ray had been behind on lot fees and taken Ricky to donate blood. They paid you for blood you weren’t even using, plus you could get super drunk off way less booze after they took it. The needle hurt a bit, but at that time Ricky had been used to it. But, wait… “Can we even give blood? Since ours is all vampire and stuff.”

Julian was smiling. Ricky had always suspected his favorite part of a plan was explaining it, so he tried to be a good listener. “No, we’re not giving blood, we’re taking it. Remember how I told you most vampires prefer human blood? But it’s hard to get without doing some distasteful shit. So we’ll have a blood drive here in Sunnyvale, pay people five bucks each to donate, then sell it back to Destiny for forty bucks a pint.”

Ricky scoffed. He sat in the chair across from Julian and choked down another swig of beer-blood. “That does sound like a pretty good plan, but I don’t see why we have to work through Destiny.”

Julian looked into his drink, clinking the ice cubes around. “Actually, it’s just me who’ll be dealing with her. She doesn’t exactly want to see you.”

Ricky slammed down his drink on the table. “What? That’s bullshit!”

Julian rolled his eyes. “Well, you did try to attack her, Ricky.”

“Yeah, after she attacked me! Kit for Cat!” Ricky stood and dumped the rest of his drink down the kitchen sink. He was already feeling too sick. He muttered almost inaudibly, “She’s probably just trying to jump your bones. Skank.”

“Yeah, maybe,” replied Julian. Damn his vampire hearing! “She’s pretty good looking, I guess.”

The trailer was getting too close-in. Ricky felt like he was being squeezed on all sides. “Whatever, man. You wanna roll the dice with that ho, that’s your pejorative. But I’m telling ya, she’s bad news.” Ricky cautiously pulled aside the window curtain and saw the golden light of sunset. “I’m gonna grab some air.”

Julian finally looked up from his drink. “Careful, Rick. The sun’s not all the way down yet.”

“I know, I’m not stupid.” Ricky grabbed the blanket off the couch and wrapped it over his head. He put on a coat, gloves and sunglasses, and grabbed his cigarettes and lighter from the counter. Thank god he didn’t show up in mirrors—he probably looked pretty stupid, and he didn’t need to see the evidence of that himself.

Ricky sat outside on the porch in a shadow, the ash on his cigarette burning down. The exposed skin of his face did sting a bit, but the pain helped distract him somewhat. He couldn’t stop picturing Destiny and Julian, laughing together. She probably wanted to bite on him in the champagne room and tell him all kinds of evil vampire secrets, the crazy bitch. How could Julian be interested in someone like that? How could he want her, instead of—

Ricky’s train of thought was interrupted by Julian opening the front door. He stood in the doorway, looking down at Ricky. “You doing ok, bud?”

Ricky flicked the ash from his cigarette. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

Julian looked warily toward the sun, which had finally crossed below the horizon. He stepped outside and sat next to Ricky on the porch. Ricky handed him a cigarette and lit it for him—the flame reflected in Julian’s eyes looked really cool. He thought about saying so but held his tongue. He felt too exposed already.

“We don’t have to do the blood drive if it makes you nervous, Rick.”

“It’s not that, it’s—” Ricky caught the thought train before it left the station. No need for Julian to know exactly how fucked his thinking was getting lately. He fiddled with his gloves. “I was just wondering, how you’re gonna get the supplies?”

Julian nodded. “It’s doable, but not easy. I’m thinking we send Cory and Trevor to the hospital to give blood, then have one of them distract the nurses and the other one steal the supplies. Where I’m still stuck is how we draw the blood. I don’t know anyone who can do it—Sam Losco, maybe?”

“I can do it,” said Ricky earnestly. He was coming around to the plan, now that he could remind Julian the important skillabilities he brought to their partnership. “I know how it works, Dad and I used to give blood all the time. And I can find a vein no problem.”

Julian’s eyes went a bit wide. “Right. Right.” He stared out into the yard. Then he spoke in a lower voice, seeming to choose his words carefully. “I hadn’t thought about that. Will you be ok? You know, being around needles and stuff?”

Now Ricky’s pride was curdling a bit into embarrassment. But he set his jaw and replied what he hoped was confidently. “I’m fine, man. I haven’t shot up since Trinity was born.”

Julian nodded once and placed a hand on Ricky’s shoulder. “OK. But if you change your mind, let me know.”

Ricky’s shoulder felt hot. Now that the darkness had set in, he removed the blanket and gloves, letting a bracing wind blow through his hair. He wondered what they would do when the cigarettes burned down.

* * *

Jim Lahey could smell the shit on the wind.

He panned his video camera (with night vision attachment) over the hand painted sign: “Blood Drive for Kids in Hour Communitie”. That was Ricky’s spelling, no doubt.

He held up his tape recorder and began his testimony. “Ex-officer James Lahey, conducting a covert observation of an illicit blood bank being operated by one Ricky LaFleur and Bubbles. Though Julian appears to be absent, I expect he’s masterminded this little scheme. The suspects are offering residents of the Sunnyvale Trailer Park five dollars apiece to donate blood, despite having no connections to a medical facility.”

He panned over the line of residents waiting to donate, and the small open-front tent where Ricky was chatting animatedly with his father Ray while his blood was drawn. Jim begrudgingly admired Ricky’s technique. From his observations, he appeared to keep each donor distracted with conversation while drawing the blood, so even the anxious folks came out calm and five bucks richer. Jim supposed there were some professions where being an obnoxious loudmouth came in handy. Ha! Cheers to that!

He took a swig and resumed his testimony. “The time is now 9:23 p.m. – I do not know why these miscreants are operating solely at nighttime hours, but I intend to find out. Randy my boy!” Jim pressed the stop button on the tape recorder to greet Randy, who was approaching in a crouch, with a band-aid on his forearm and munching on a cookie. “What did you find out?”

Randy spoke in a stage whisper, with his mouth still full of chocolate chips. “Not much, Mr. Lahey. Ricky called me a mean name, but he still took my blood. They’re using fresh needles and supplies and things for everyone. It looked pretty clean at least”

Jim nodded. “So they boosted a full phlebotomy kit. I wonder who’s missing it?”

Randy pressed on. “I don’t know about a lobotomy, but after I was done, Bubbles gave me a band-aid and five bucks. Then I saw Trinity at a table with cookies, so I took one, but after I ate it she said I had to pay two fifty! Pretty sneaky shakedown they’ve got there. So I lost all the money I made.”

Jim cocked his head to the side. “What about the other two fifty?”

Randy smiled. “Well, I got you one too!” He reached into his back pocket and produced an oatmeal cookie, wrapped in a napkin and slightly squished. Jim accepted it gratefully.

“Did you see what they do with the blood after it’s drawn?”

“Yeah, they’ve got Cory and Trevor running it back into Julian’s trailer.”

“Aha!” Jim made a fist in the air and took a celebratory drink. “That, my boy, is the last piece of the shit puzzle. The weak link in the shit-chain. We get those two dimwits, we can crash this entire operation.” 

* * *

“What’re you really doing here, Ricky?” asked Lucy as Ricky bandaged her arm. She looked over at Trinity, who was distracted packing up her bake sale, then whispered, “Is this some V-A-M-P-“

Ricky shushed her, and she pushed his hand aside. “Don’t spell at me, Luce. It’s unpolite.” She gave him a withering look. “This is Julian’s plan, and the less you know the better, for you and Trin both.”

“If Julian’s Mr. Big Plans, why isn’t he here sticking people with needles?”

Ricky had wondered the same thing. Julian had left a voicemail to start things up without him, but to miss the whole blood drive? Not cool. Still, he and Lucy hadn’t been banging for six or seven months now, so he didn’t feel like it was fair for her to give him such a hard time. “Don’t worry about it, it doesn’t concern you,” he retorted.

Lucy stood and grabbed her purse. “It concerns me when you have our daughter running part of your scam.”

“Hey now, the bake sale was her idea. Isn’t that right, sweetie?” Trinity skipped over and fanned out her stack of dollars.

“Look how much I got, daddy!” she said excitedly.

Ricky patted her back. “Nice going, hon!”

Ricky could practically see the dollar signs in Lucy’s eyes. She sniffed, “Well, as long as she gets to keep the money she made…”

“Of course,” agreed Ricky. He was impressed with Trinity’s entr-… entrepren-… that is, her salesperson spirit.

Trinity reached into her tote bag and pulled out a dark chocolate cookie. “I saved one for you, dad!” she said, handing it to him.

Ricky took a bite of the saltiest cookie he’d ever tasted. It was godawful. He forced a broad smile. “Thank you, sweetie. Maybe next time daddy can help you make them.”

Lucy apparently saw Ricky’s eyes watering, because when Trinity offered her a cookie she demurred, “Maybe later, Trin. Come on, you have to study for your science test.”

Trinity groaned, and hugged Ricky goodbye. He gave her an extra squeeze before she trotted off after Lucy. “Listen to your mother, Trin. Learn about all the animals and birds, study good.”

Ricky whistled for Cory and Trevor, then gestured broadly to the tent and blood bags. They looked vacant for a moment before Ricky clapped at them, then they set to work packing up. As an afterthought, Ricky grabbed one of the blood bags and squeezed some into a glass before the boys packed it up in the bunker.

He went to meet Bubbles, who was closing out the boys’ cash box in Julian’s living room.

“What’s the damage, buddy?”

Bubbles counted a few final bills. “We gave away $210 for 42 blood donations. So at an average of a pint per person, we stand to make a tidy profit.”

“Right on.” Ricky took a sip of blood. “Fuck! Julian wasn’t kidding, this is way better than the animal stuff.”

Bubbles looked wary. “Are you drinking people blood, Ricky? I wish you wouldn’t do that in front of me, it’s not decent.”

“Sorry, Bubs.” Ricky set down the glass. In exchange, Bubbles went to Julian’s cabinets and poured them each a glass of Julian’s good bourbon. Jules would flip if he knew. Speaking of which…

“Have you heard from Julian? I can’t believe that fuck made us run his whole scheme and didn’t even show up. Screw it, pour more of his fancy bourbon.”

Bubbles obliged. “Haven’t heard hide nor hair, not since he told me he was going to see that Destiny girl.”

The bourbon tasted sour in Ricky’s mouth. He swallowed with effort. “He what?”

Bubbles shook his head. “I’m a bit pissed too, Ricky, I’ll be honest with ya. Blowing off his friends and this whole hullabaloo to go on a date? Well, it’s just not very considerate, is it?”

Ricky could feel his fangs starting to poke out and restrained a snarl so he wouldn’t spook Bubbles. “He said it was a date?”

Bubbles saw through him, like usual. He squinted his eyes. “Why’s that the part you’re hung up, hmm?”

Retreat. Disengage. He crossed the room and poured more liquor with his back to Bubbles. Get it together, Ricky. “I’m not hung up on anything. Just pissed is all. He… you know, he abandoned his… his whole— fuck! This was his idea, and…” The words Ricky needed were just out of reach.

“Cool down, Ricky” Bubbles was crossing toward him, crowding him in the small kitchen. “Take it slow, just—”

“Can you fuck off, please?!” Ricky snapped, whirling around and pushing past Bubbles. “I’m sorry, just, please fuck off, alright?”

Bubbles looked more confused than hurt. “Alright then, I’m going.” He gathered up the lockbox and poured his untouched bourbon into Ricky’s glass. “Take her easy, Rick.” He closed the screen door behind him.

One really useful thing about being self-learned and not using too many thoughts was that you got really good at not thinking thoughts. That was Ricky’s philosophy. So when he was all alone in the trailer, he at first was going to start thinking about why he cared so much that Julian was on a date.

But he decided to not think that. He was just going to think of something else instead. Easy.

Anything else, really.

Anything at all…

_Am I gay? Or bisectional or whatever?_

Sometimes, when you have not the most book-learned brain, sometimes it needs help not thinking thoughts. Ricky knew this from experience. So he helped his brain out by finishing the rest of his bourbon, and smoking a six-paper joint.

He put on a hockey game on Julian’s TV and grabbed one of the human-blood bags from the fridge in the bunker. His brain had been doing a real good job of not thinking thoughts, when a stray thought got past his mental goalie like a rogue puck on the ice.

_Am I in love with my best friend?_

Foul! Brain needs more help. Ricky mixed a few cups of bourbon with two more blood bags, and another joint. But each hour Julian didn’t return home made the mental goalie get more lazy, until another thought got through.

_Why does Julian want to be with her and not me?_

That’s it. Ricky wasn’t playing nice anymore. He finished the bourbon, and the rum, and lost track of the blood bags he drank. Finally, about halfway through the second joint, he stopped having thoughts entirely.

See, brain? Easy as peasy.

* * *

Julian was getting nervous driving home and kept checking his watch. He pressed on the gas, hoping to beat the sunrise.

He should just about make it in time, if he didn’t hit too many lights. Most of the nerves were probably left over from the night out.

Weird fucking night.

Destiny had called him for drinks, to meet a few vampire friends of hers, and to “see her place” in Cedar Hills. Julian could practically hear the quotations over the phone – he knew what he was getting in for.

So he went, less because he felt like it than that he felt like he should feel like it. I mean, it _had_ been a while since he’d gotten laid.

Julian rarely felt old except when he was with young people. Ironically, half of Destiny’s friends were older than him (the whole eternal-youth thing), but they were somehow still so _young_. There was the whole goth thing, which Julian had never understood, and the constant vying for attention, laughing loudly so the whole bar knew how much fun you were having, teasing and cattiness (from the guys and girls both). It wasn’t Julian’s scene at all. Since his mid-twenties, he’d mostly dreamed of retirement, just hanging out all day with his friends doing fuck-all. These vamps were so damn _hungry_ – they all had a hustle, a side-hustle, a piece, a side-piece, and a fuck-buddy. It was too much.

After Julian had excused himself from the trendy bar the vampires favorited, Destiny had followed him outside and made the expected invitation back to her place. He went, let her fix him a blood-cocktail, made out on her futon, and then… chickened out.

He still couldn’t figure out what was wrong. She was pretty, nice enough, and certainly wanted to sleep with him. But he couldn’t pull the trigger.

Destiny had been pretty pissed. He’d made some lame apologies as he gathered his things, and she just crossed her arms in the doorway, reminded him that she expected 40 pints by tomorrow night, and gone to bed.

Julian hoped he hadn’t screwed things up with her too badly to do business. Maybe he should have just manned-up and had sex with her. But where would it go from there? Too much.

Julian should have gone home after that. But he found himself at the late-night LC, then in front of his old high school, watching the bats and owls above the track field.

It wasn’t until the sky started to lighten that he came to his senses and speeded back to Sunnyvale. By the time he pulled up next to his trailer, the first rays of sunlight were singing the back of Julian’s neck. He threw the car in park and hurried inside.

What he saw at first looked like a crime scene. Ricky was laying prone on the floor, and there was blood everywhere.

His panic resolved into confusion, then into anger as the clues pieced together— medical grade blood bags with toothmarks on them, the lingering scent of booze and dope, and Ricky using his VHS copy of _Lethal Weapon_ as a pillow.

Julian knelt and shook Ricky by the shoulder.

“Ricky, wake up.”

Ricky looked around blearily. He seemed strangely shocked to see Julian but composed himself. “Hey, man, what’s up?”

Julian remained stone-faced. “What happened here, Rick?”

Ricky surveyed his surroundings. “What does it look like? Crazy liquor and blood party. Hey, you wanna watch a movie?” Ricky scrumbled around the pile of trash at his feet and extracted _Predator 2,_ moving to put it in the VHS player. Julian snatched it out of his hand.

“Is this the blood you took last night?”

Ricky huffed. “I don’t know, some of it might be.” Ricky started picking up bags and beer cans, not meeting Julian’s eyes.

Julian stood and put a hand on Ricky’s shoulder, to stop him buzzing around the room and avoiding what Julian was starting to think was a big problem. “How much is left? We need to deliver forty pints by tonight.”

Ricky pushed past him. “Tons! We got like a hundred pints last night, no thanks to you.”

He deserved that. “I’m sorry, Rick. I got held up.”

Ricky busied himself trying to fit all the trash into the can. He kept squishing it down, and it kept rising back up again. He muttered, “It’s fine. I’m over it.”

Huh. Julian had expected Ricky to be more pissed off than that. He’d been getting ready for a fight, or for… something. Not sure what to do with all the excess energy, he used a pair of kitchen tongs to open the window facing Bubbles’s shed, leaning away from the sunlight.

“Morning, Bubs!”

Bubbles’s head poked out of the door of the shed. “There you are, Julian! We were wondering about’cha.”

“Why don’t you come on over when you’re ready, give me the report?”

“Sure thing, let me just get tidied up!”

Julian went down to the bunker. His gut sank when he saw the small stack of blood bags in the fridge. He pulled them out onto the card table and started counting.

“Fuck!”

Bubbles climbed down the ladder. “What’s the matter there?”

Julian began re-counting, hoping he was wrong. “How many blood donations did you take last night?”

Bubbled puffed his chest proudly. “42! It was a pretty tidy operation, if I do say so.”

Julian counted the last bag again. “There’s only 32 here.”

Bubbles frowned. “Well that can’t be right.”

Julian pinched the bridge of his nose. Focus. Just fix the problem at hand.

“Can you go get Cory and Trevor?”

* * *

“There, now just hold still and wait,” said Ricky, placing the needle in Trevor’s arm.

Cory was watching his own blood bag, apparently transfixed. “How does the blood know to go in there?”

Ricky rolled his eyes. “It’s like siphoning gas. It’s centripugal force. Didn’t you ever take grade 10?”

Cory shook his head. Trevor was staring at his arm and looking green. “It’s so gross…” he whispered.

Ricky smacked him on the arm. “Then don’t look, fuckwit!”

Cory watched Trevor with concern. “How long do we have to keep doing this?”

Julian replied, with his arms crossed. “Just need four pints from you each, no big deal.”

The room was silent, with palpable tension. Finally, Bubbles piped up. “Let’s put something on the TV, keep you boys from thinking too much about all your inside blood going outside.”

He flipped channels to some cartoons, which kept Cory and Trevor transfixed. Julian watched Ricky from across the room. When Julian confronted Ricky about drinking ten pints of their profits, he had expected a huge fight, the typical denials, deflections, and accusations that were Ricky’s nature. But instead, Ricky had just… apologized. Sincerely, but also weakly. Like there was no fight left in him. The weirdness of that was enough to make Julian drop the issue.

Bubbles had refused to give blood himself, claiming he had anemia. Julian didn’t want to admit that he didn’t know what that was, so that left Cory and Trevor. Bubbles searched the internet and was pretty sure they could lose 2 liters each and be fine. Almost positive, he said. 

“Looks like they’re all done, Ricky.”

Julian snapped out of his reverie. He realized he hadn’t slept for almost 20 hours. He was ready to finish this day already.

Ricky patched up the boys and packed up the blood bags.

Cory and Trevor stood unsteadily. Julian faced them, pouring them each a Coke as he spoke.

“Alright, you did good work here today boys. I won’t forget that. Now, you’ve both lost a lot of blood, so you’re gonna want to take it easy today. I don’t have any food in the house, but drink these, get some sugar in you. I want you to go straight to Sarah and Lucy’s and get something to eat, alright?”

Cory nodded woozily. Trevor just stared.

Julian clapped them each on the back. “Run along boys.”

They scampered down the porch. Julian turned back to Bubbles and Ricky.

“I think we’re in the clear. I’ll drop the blood off tonight, we’ll get paid, and we’ll build a customer base for our dope blood.”

Ricky just nodded. Bubbles elbowed Julian in the ribs, saying, “I bet that vampire girl will be happy to see you again. Two nights in a row?” 

Julian looked into his drink, swirling the ice. “Maybe. I met some more vampires we might try to deal with directly next time. I’m not sure Destiny really has a head for business.”

It might be the sleep deprivation, but Julian thought he saw Ricky perk up at that. “Bubs, stay as long as you like, but I’m going to bed. And Ricky— nice work on the blood drive. There were a few bumps on the road, but you came through, buddy.”

Julian fell onto his bed fully clothed, barely mustering the energy to kick off his shoes. He heard Ricky and Bubbles whispering in the front room and passed out to the murmur of voices. He dreamed about the bats and owls on the track field.

* * *

Jim Lahey watched Cory and Trevor emerge from Julian’s trailer through his binoculars.

“Look alive, Bo-Bandy. The shit-snare is set.”

He grabbed a bottle of Jim Beam and two glasses and went out to the porch.

“Howdy, boys! Care for a drink?”

Cory and Trevor’s heads snapped toward him, and they wandered over. They looked pretty drunk already—had they been up drinking with Julian?

Trevor spoke first. “That’s nice of you to offer Mr. Lahey, but we’ve got to get something to eat first.”

Jim smiled magnanimously. “Oh, I’ve got plenty of food. You boys like bacon and eggs?”

Cory’s eyes went wide. “Well, I guess that sounds pretty good.”

“Great!” Jim ushered them inside, mouthing “shit-snare” to Randy over their heads. “You boys have a seat on the couch, and Randy will fix us some breakfast, won’t you my boy?”

Randy rolled his eyes, but obliged. Jim placed a drink each on Cory and Trevor’s hands, and encouraged them to lift their glasses.

“Down the hatch, fellas! Don’t waste good liquor. Now, what kinds of crazy shenanigans did you get into last night?”

Trevor looked like the drink hit him like a freight train. Cory’s eyes were already half-closed. He responded blearily, “We were helping Ricky and Bubbles with the blood drive.”

Jim refilled both their drinks. “Ah yes, that little scheme. Who do you suppose all that blood is going too?”

Cory responded with his eyes closed, leaning on Trevor’s shoulder. “The vampires. Duh.”

Trevor smacked him awake, but without any real force. “Dude! Dude… we weren’t supposed to say that.”

Jim’s heart was racing. “Vampires, you say?”

Trevor stood up, pulling Cory to his feet. “We, uh, we’d better get going Mr. Lahey. Thanks for the drinks.”

“But you haven’t even had your breakfast, boys!” Jim called after them as the scampered out of his trailer and toward Lucy’s. “Come on now, stay a while!”

Randy set two plates of bacon and eggs and sat down at the table. “Jeez, Mr. Lahey, those guys were pretty wasted. Talking about vampires and crazy stuff.”

Jim stared after Trevor and Cory, then into Julian’s trailer. A sly smile crept across his face.

“No, Rand. That’s the sanest thing I’ve heard in a long time.” He walked past Randy and into the bedroom and began loudly pushing the bed aside.

Randy came in after him. “What are you doing, Mr. Lahey?”

Jim searched through a drawer for a screwdriver and began prying loose the floorboards under the bed. “I come from a proud lineage, Randy, of men and women who stand against the forces of darkness. Can you help me with this?”

He removed the floorboard to reveal a large, ornate wooden chest. With Randy’s help, he lifted it up onto the floor. Opening the lid, he looked upon a family collection he had never expected to use. The box was full of weapons – wooden stakes, holy water, crossbows, axes, and the Lahey family tome on The Hunting of Vampires.

“Randy, my boy, we’ve got some vampires to slay.”


End file.
